The Unveiling
by dimplesssx
Summary: I was confused. I was lost. I did not know myself. Not truly. Not fully. But he saw me for who I am. He guided me, taught me, gave to me and took all I offered. He set me alight and fed the flame. And now, the whole world will see me too. A story of self-discovery and an education for two hearts that beat as one. Fluttering in time with the camera shutter. D/s story, mature themes
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

After two years of researching, two years of learning, of yearning; today is the day. I have wished for this, craved this, my entire life, perhaps mostly unknowingly, but I have craved it. I have wanted this for so long. I always needed guidance. Someone to direct me through life. Choose for me. Demand of me. Command me. And now, that chance has come. You are here. You stand before me, hard yet gentle, cold yet warm, domineering yet attentive. Full of contradictions. Yet so plain and simple. As easy as breathing. I kneel in the middle of the darkened room, head bowed, knees together, feet spread; waiting for the first command. Waiting to be led to my subjugation; my freedom. A burst of light and the sound of a camera's shutter fill the room and my senses. It has begun.

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**I'm rather excited about this piece; I know where it's going but I don't know where the characters will take me...**  
**Please read and review, chapter 1 to follow!**  
**dimples**  
**xxx**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

My hands are clasped and rest behind my back as I kneel, awaiting further instruction. I should not be nervous; I trust you, but my breathing accelerates. The white negligée I wear rides up my thighs, exposing more skin. To calm my frantic heart I think back to our first meeting, knowing it will do little but remove me from my current setting as you adjust your tripod and various other apparatus whose functions I do not understand.

_Angela giggles and jabs my side to grab my attention. Our new gallery manager has arrived. This would be a good thing but he is twenty minutes late, has a fresh coffee stain on his shirt and there is a storm brewing in his eyes. His creased brow furrows further when he notices the two of us standing by his office door. He arches one brow in question – what business do you have here? – and Angela wastes no time in talking for us both since I seem to have lost all motor function. He is beautiful. Ruggedly so, but beautiful nonetheless. The sort of jaw bone found in portraits of dukes and royalty, with a perfect nose and thin pink lips that he subconsciously licks as he listens intently to our job descriptions; senior and junior assistants. I drop my eyes to the floor and blush when he realises that I have done nothing but stare at him and mumble a "Good morning" to which he smirks;  
"Well, it could have gone more smoothly, but it seems to have gotten exponentially better. Now, Angela, when do you finish for your maternity leave? And will Isabella be able to handle all my affairs while you're gone? I hate the idea of time wasted training someone new up."  
Angela happily informs him that I will in fact be perfectly capable working alone –the way I prefer it – and that she leaves on Friday. He nods and I can feel his eyes on me, but I have yet to lift them; having developed a sudden fascination with the cream wool carpet. Angela throws her elbow into my side again and when I look at her in surprise and reprimand she gives me a silent warning "Don't act a fool; say something!" So I do.  
"I'm sorry Sir, was there anything I could get for you? A clean shirt perhaps? Or a Botox injection for your forehead" I slapped my hand across my mouth; my eyes widen in horror as Angela looks at me with a mix of pride and shock on her features. She knows that I have a tendency to speak inappropriately when I feel uncomfortable or embarrassed, but this man does not.  
"Mr Cullen, I do apologise, Miss Bella here has little filter when she feels pressured or anxious. I would promise it won't happen again but I like to keep my promises and this little spit fire is rather unpredictable, aren't you dear?" Angela explains with a large grin and slight giggle. I swear the pregnancy hormones increased her happiness scale by a million and then some.  
"Well Miss Angela, I think it best you give me the grand tour while Isabella returns to her desk. Isabella, please have the Johnson, La Fontaine and Rouss files ready for my return. Also, call Mary Dupont and tell her that if the prints have not left her gallery by noon we are cancelling the showing."  
I simply nod my head, not trusting myself to speak and briskly exit the office, throwing myself into my work to prove to him that I am not a bumbling idiot but am in fact worthy of my job. I have everything he requested of me completed by the time they return and only let out a heavy sigh of relief when he enters is office and closes the door behind him. Angela just giggles._

I revert back to reality when I hear you call my name, telling me you won't be much longer in preparation and that we will begin momentarily. You stride towards me with a bottle of water, crouch so you have better access to my mouth and hold the opened bottle to my lips so I may take a sip; which I do, before kissing the inside of your wrist in gratitude. Not only for the water, but many things; everything. You smile and caress my cheek because you know.

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**So, two posts in one night, I must be keen...**  
**Okay, so I'm keen, sue me.  
As you can probably tell, the chapters are going to be fairly short; pretty drabble-esque, so I'm hoping to publish chapters more regularly, yay!  
****Please tell me what you think, I can't help you fall in love with them like I did if you don't tell me what you like and don't like...****  
**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Isabella, I'm ready to begin. Are you?"

You call out to me, from where I don't know, but you sound controlled, expectant and confident, so I do too. Without moving from my position I respond with a resounding "Yes, Master." And so it begins. You tell me to move to your preferred inspection position; head cast down, hands interlocked behind my neck, my back straight and breasts pushed out for you to gaze at. The camera's shutter is the only sound to fill the room, mixed with my slow breathing. You direct me through various poses; head down, head tilted back so I am looking upwards at the ceiling, head facing forward- eyes closed- then looking straight at the camera. You stop soon after to change a lens and adjust the lighting once more and my mind wanders again, chuckling internally at how you always were one to keep me waiting.

_"Isabella, I need you to call Rosenberg again for me, his delaying is getting really rather-"_

_His voice rips me from another daydream. Well, I say daydream, I mean wet dream. My brain is a masochist, I've decided. Everyday I walk into this office having slept little the night before, my dreams plagued with green eyes, irresistible smirks and the smoothest voice that ignite feelings from deep within me. Feeling that I have never felt so strongly for another man. Not that there have been many, but I digress. Shaking the lusty haze from my mind, I pray my indecent thoughts are not conveyed as I quickly respond._

"Already done Sir, he wasn't happy with my pestering him but when he realised you were serious about your offer he suggested a meeting tomorrow morning. I scheduled it for 4 o'clock; after your lunch with your family. It should give you plenty time, factoring in traffic and I'll have the files waiting in your car for you to read through as your travel back. May I suggest you include Miss Rosalie in the meeting; Mr Rosenberg does like his blonds. His art is evidence enough."

_He looked at me, a knowing smirk on his face. It had been three months since he took over the managerial role here and he knew fine well that anything he asked of me would already be done. I hated to disappoint, always had; so tried not to make a habit of such things. Plus, that smirk did things to me. Things that no other man had made me feel. And he was only smiling!_

"Isabella, it seems you have everything covered. Should I book a table for tomorrow's lunch or…?"  
"No need, I called Mick and he will have a table set for you on the top floor, by the south facing window: I know your mother has wanted to visit his latest restaurant and thought it would be a nice surprise for her. I also pulled a favor and you'll be giving your parents the restaurant for the night for her birthday next month. I only had to offer one of the Louise Donaldson prints for the jazz lounge for it to happen."

I stood then, knowing I'd have to leave the confined space before I laughed at his dumbstruck expression. He was easily pleased at times, yet at others he was a nightmare. I went to leave for the door when he called me back.

"Isabella, come here please." I stopped. His tone was different. Commanding. Nothing like he had used before. I hesitated and he barked "Now."

I turned and found him standing mere inches from me. I hadn't heard him move. I took a small step towards him so as not to disobey his order. He noticed and one corner of his mouth curled slightly in recognition of my obedience. I just looked down at my shoes. I felt embarrassed, maybe I had gone too far with his mother's present, but she had mentioned it to me the last time she was in that she was-

_My train of thought was interrupted by his index finger lifting my chin up, encouraging me to look at him. When I did, I saw not anger in his eyes. Something else. Passion. Gratitude. Lust?_

"_You have pleased me, Isabella. Greatly so. It was very kind of you to prepare part of my mother's present for me. I know you have caught me searching the Tiffany's website, and various others. In fact, you will have to help me find some suitable jewelry for her. But not today. Your reward for your hard work is to take the rest of the day off, if you wish. I am sure I can hold the fort." He leaned forward and bent slightly so as to line his eyes with mine. He didn't leave time for me to respond.  
"You always surprise me Isabella. You are so hard-working, so…compliant with my demands. You make me wonder…just how compliant are you, Isabella?"_

_I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding and looked away, struggling to find something to say, when I was luckily saved by my phone ringing. I ducked around him and answered the call as confidently as I could, trying not to show the uncertainty in my voice. I felt his eyes on me as I took down details and argued with a potential artist about pricing and shipping. I heard him move slowly towards me as I wrapped up the call. And as I placed the phone in its docket, he spun my chair round and planted a hand on either side of the desk, encasing me, trapping me. My eyes widened in shock and I bit my lip, a habit I gave in to when I was anxious or concentrating. Here, it was for both reasons. I was nervous that I would be reprimanded for my rude behavior. And concentrating on his face as he looked at me. Through me. Seeing me. I waited for him to speak but he didn't. So I attempted to fill the pregnant pause with my usual babble._

"_Sir, I…apologise for before, it was rude of me not to answer you. But I did not know how to respond. I mean, of course I follow instructions. I am a police chief's daughter. I was brought up to always follow orders. I do nothing illegal. I am polite and respectful. I am not sure what you meant when you say how compliant am I? Because I am not sure. I would imagine I am compliant the right amount. If you disagree, I apologise and will strive to do better, Sir-"_

_He put a finger to my lips, in an attempt to hush me. He succeeded. For a moment –it could have been a second, a minute or an hour: I don't know- it felt like a lifetime- we were silent. We just watched. And breathed. And waited. Finally, he took a deep breath._

"_Isabella. I'm sorry, but I can't have you calling me 'Sir'. It…does things…means things…to me that I do not think you wish to know. And if that is the case, you must promise me to refrain. Because if you don't stop, I may not be held accountable for my actions."_

_And with that he kissed me. _

"Go to the wall and pick three items, pet." Your voice shakes me from my reverie once again and I internally kick myself for allowing my concentration to stray so far from where I am. I just hope you don't notice. Today is not the day for punishment. No matter how much we would both enjoy it.

"Which items would you like me to pick, Master?" I ask you, rising but maintaining my focus on the ground.

"Whichever three you think will please me the most, my sweet. Surprise me."

I nod once and resist a smile, knowing that this is a test. This test will determine how our day transpires. It will also show you how I wish to be portrayed to the outside world. How I want the world to view my submission to you. How I want them to see you control me, bring me pain and pleasure so tightly intertwined I can barely separate the two. This test shows you my needs. But it is also a test of concentration and understanding. You want to know if I can read you as well as you read me. You want to see if I know what you need from today too. You want me to choose the things that will please you best, but also torture me most. The sweetest torture, but torture nonetheless. I know you are eager to see what I choose- you can't wait- and as anticipation crackles in the air, competing with the steady rhythm of the camera shutter, neither can I.

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**Well, that's a little more insight to the professional and personal relationship for you.**  
**I love the tension and the devotion and power they each exude and hold over one another, it's just so consuming! (That sentence may feature in a future chapter, I quite like it and I think Bella would sum things up nicely using those words...)**  
**What do you think? I love feedback, it's what creates a better writer.**  
**Thank you for taking the time to read my imagination's concoction, it means a lot to me**


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